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Don’t Make Me Get Out of My Jammies

Every afternoon when I get home from work, I slip into my striped jammies and fuzzy white robe.  They provide a comfort that I need at the end each busy day.

Yesterday was no different.

I prepared myself mentally to tackle my first difficult class assignment.

Then, Rooster burst my bubble.

“Mama, the internet is out again.”

Sigh.

Not only was the internet out, but so was the phone.  Fortunately, the cable was working.

I don’t remember if I told you, but in November, my cable, phone, and internet were out for three days.  It was difficult to be productive when most of my work requires me to be online.

I quickly called Comcast, expecting them to set me up for an appointment the next day.

The thing I actually despise about calling my cable company is that my call does not go to a local office but to a call center.  This irks me to no end because, in the past, I’ve had to go into the local office because the call center proved useless. 

I, quite honestly, did not want to get out of my jammies.

The girl on the other end of the line told me that there was not an outage, and that my problem seemed to be isolated.

Great.

I knew in that moment that this would knock me down the list.

After resetting the modem and playing with other stuff, she determined that a service call would need to be made.

Double great.

The Mr. has been taking a class for work, and he’s had to travel out-of-town every day.  With my teaching job, it is difficult to get off.

I still had every expectation of being set up with a Thursday appointment.  After all, the last time I had issues, I was told that if two or more services are disrupted, you are supposed to get a response within 24 hours.

Apparently not every employee is familiar with the company’s policy.

The girl put me on hold and finally returned to tell me that the first appointment available was Tuesday.

Seriously?

TUESDAY?

Hello world, but that would be six days of no internet or phone.

Seriously?

I went ballistic, but in a polite yet firm manner.

I told her, in no uncertain terms, that I teach five classes and take three online college classes.  Not having my internet would seriously affect my ability to complete my work.

But wait.

This gets better.

Not only did she schedule me for a Tuesday appointment, but she also had the nerve to tell me that because I don’t have the Service Agreement Plan, if the technician comes into my house and finds a problem with the splitter (or some other minimal thing inside), then I would be responsible for paying for it.

Um, hello?

This is AuburnChick – the gal who’s had repeated cable problems for three months!  You’re telling me that you’re gonna charge me to come in and diagnose the problem.

Oh heck no.

I told her I’d like to see them try to charge me.  They might, in fact add charges, but they sure as heck would be taking them off by the time I got through with them.

Now, at some point, I apologized for being gruff, and I explained that I knew she was just a voice on the other end of the line.  I used to do computer support, from a phone, so I know what it feels like to get blamed for the world’s problems.

Before I hung up with the representative, I asked for the number to my local office.  I knew I would get a better response if I could talk to someone there.

I absolutely did NOT want to get out of my jammies and drive there.

The girl said she’d get it for me and then…

She hung up on me.

Oh.

My.

Gosh.

I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt and say our call accidentally got “disconnected.”

Right.

Not one to be easily intimidated by a challenge (unless we’re talking about my education class assignment), I called back.

This time I got a different person, and I quickly told him that all I wanted was the phone number for the local office.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to give it to you.”

Seriously?

Finally, he gave me a number.

I called.

It was dispatch…

For a town two hours away.

My blood was boiling throat high by now.

I repeated my request for a local number.

“Ma’am, I don’t have the number, but I can transfer you directly.”

Right.

He transferred me to a number in North Carolina.

Hello world.  My blood pressure was rising to the point where I was about to explode.

During my many phone calls, I walked out to the check the mail.

What was inside?

A flyer for a rival cable company.

Hello God.  Are you trying to tell me something?

The guy in North Carolina listened to my woes and “fit me in” on Friday…two days away…between 8-10am.

Oh my gosh.  I know beggars can’t be choosy, but give me a break!  The Mr. would still be out-of-town, and I would have to ask off from my job to get the internet fixed.

After hanging up with this representative, I did what I had been trying to avoid.

I changed out of my oh so comfy jammies…back into my blue jeans…and headed to my local Comcast office.

Before leaving, Rooster pumped me up…

“Tell them you’re taking four college classes.  Tell them you teach a whole bunch.  Tell them you have a son who wants to play Xbox Live.  Make sure you get some free movies out of it.”

That’s telling them, Rooster!  LOL

I called the Mr. en route and explained that we did not have internet – again.

He was not happy.

He told to see if I could get a free DVR out of the situation.

Really?  Good gravy, but what opportunists reside in the AuburnChick household!

Before going into Comcast, I said a prayer.  I wanted to make sure that I was nice.  I am always conscious of the fact that as a Christian, I am a reflection of God.  This doesn’t mean that I always say or do the right things.  But in situations like this, it helps to calm me down.

Upon going in, I was greeted by a lovely young lady who was wearing a beautiful smile.  I explained my problem, she worked her magic on the computer, and she told me that there was, in fact, an outage.

Uh huh.  Told you so (I didn’t actually say this to her, but I thought it).

She also told me that Comcast’s policy is that if ANY of your services are disrupted (even just one), you are supposed to get assistance within 24 hours.

It turns out that the representatives on the phone were wrong.

She sent them and their supervisors emails about the policy while I stood at the counter.

Get ’em, Girl.

She also told me that dispatch had already sent out workers to fix the problem.

Yay!

We chatted a bit more, and then she did a lovely thing.

She offered me coupons for three free movies.

There ya go, Rooster.  I didn’t even have to ask.

I did ask about the DVR, and though there is a special going on right now, the Mr. opted not to take advantage of it.  Money is tight.  Because we already have one DVR, this was fine with me.  He just wanted an extra.

I expressed my heartfelt thanks to the girl and told her how much I appreciated her professional treatment.

Then, I went home, relayed the good news to the family, and got back into my jammies.

I also discovered that my internet was fixed.

It turned out to be a great evening.

An Interesting Dinner Experience

Last night, Soccer Chick had a game in a city two hours away.  This was the second out of three games I had to attend…three nights in a row…to the same city.  Rooster played the night before, and Chicky plays again tonight.  It makes for a lot of traveling.

A friend of mine has a daughter on Chick’s team and a son on Rooster’s team, so we decided to carpool.  Last night she drove.

After the game, we loaded all of the kids into her van (it was her family plus mine minus Mr. AuburnChick who’s working very long hours this week).  We let the girls decide where to eat since they had played hard.

They selected iHop.

Now, I’ve gotta tell you that I was hoping for something quick so we could get back on the road and make it home earlier, but I rarely eat “breakfast” out, so I figured it would be a nice treat.  I could already taste the French Toast.

We walked in, and there weren’t many customers.  I mean, who’s going to be out eating at 9pm?

We sat down and placed our orders.  The server brought our drinks and left.

And remained gone.

Several of us had finished our drinks, and there was no sight of food.  The waitress had disappeared.

We finally called over another gal and explained that we needed more water.  After a delay, she brought us more.

Things were not looking good.

We sat.

And sat.

And sat.

The kids started telling corny jokes:

“What does a 200-pound bird say?”

In a very deep voice, “Tweet.”

That was Chicky’s joke.  Kind of funny when she said it.

Guess you had to be there.

Anyhow, we ran out of jokes, and we still had no food.

I should have realized this was going to be a long night when, upon going to the bathroom, the toilet wouldn’t flush.  I found that gross.  I turned back and lifted the lid of the tank, thinking I could pull the chain that goes to the flusher.  No cigar.  The chain had come off of the latch thing.  I decided that I was NOT going to reach my hand down into that tank water to pull out the flusher thing.  I had to draw the line somewhere.

Anyhow…in my opinion, an unkempt bathroom is another sign of lack of care in a facility.

Finally, after about an hour (I kid you not), half of our food arrived.  It was the food that my family had ordered.

I didn’t want to start without the others, but they insisted, before my food got cold.

I dug into my spinach and mushroom omelet (I had changed my mind from the French Toast).

The others at the table finally received their order.

My friend started eating her salad when she realized that it was missing the chicken.  She had ordered a chickn/appple salad.  All that was in her bowl was a hunk of spinach and a few apple slices, along with a slathering of dressing.

By this time, we were beside ourselves.  It was kind of funny.  It was like someone had taken a bag of spinach and dumped it into her bowl…little effort required.

We called the waitress over and explained the problem.  She left and returned with a menu in hand, reading to herself…

“Oh yeah, it does look like there’s supposed to be chicken in there.”

She returned to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, my friend continued to pick at the salad, realizing as she did so that not only was the chicken missing, but so was the bacon, the eggs, and a few other things.

Very bad.

Her husband, who had maintained his composure to this point, called over a manager.

The manager was somewhat less than understanding, claiming that we had not been waiting as long as we claimed.  That was beside the point.  We had waited much too long for our food, and when it came out, it was wrong.  And we had a two-hour drive home.

Not good.

Anyone can tell you that the salad should never have left the kitchen.

She finally received her salad, sans the eggs and bacon, but with the chicken.

When we received our bill, I had been comped $10, and they had been comped part of their meal as well.  Good thing.

Interestingly enough, this family has had very bad service at several iHops.  I guess it’s always fair to give them another shot.  However, after the latest experience, they’ve decided to pack it in.  It would appear that several things are wrong with their training program and quality control.

It did make for an interesting night.

We’re going back to the same city tonight.  I think we’ll hop on past the iHop this time.